


Green Eyed Girl

by sadlonelyyogurt



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Girls Kissing, Green Eyes, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, IT'S GAY, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Original lesbian character, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Sandy doesn't actually have feelings for Soda, Sandy is a lesbian, Sandy's pov, Soda is hardly in this, Unrequited Love, You Have Been Warned, also i don't know anything about the 60s, homophobia trigger warning, i don't even know what this is, i guess, i tried my best tho, if that wasn't clear, it's just lesbianing, it's pretty much just Sandy, lesbain Sandy, no violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21876241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlonelyyogurt/pseuds/sadlonelyyogurt
Summary: Sandy loved Sodapop. Or, she thought she did. Maybe she doesn't even knew what love truly is.OrSandy is actually a lesbian although she doesn't know it until this knew girl shows up in town and is also really fucking gay.
Relationships: Sandy (The Outsiders)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	Green Eyed Girl

**Author's Note:**

> One night on little sleep my brain was like "yoooo, what if Sandy was actually a lesbian and then her parents found out so that's why she had to leave." And then this fan fiction was born. For the most part I believe in the popular theory that she got pregnant and that's why she left, but I thought this was interesting, too.  
> I kind of just thought it would be fun to play around with the idea, which is why this isn't super polished.
> 
> Just a note I personally am bisexual and so I can't exactly relate to Sandy or the OC Morgan because, unlike them, I have always been attracted to boys. I do know though what it's like to question your sexuality and all that fun stuff, so I hope I did ok.  
> Also I dunno shit about the 60's and I am lazy so I did minimal research. Hope nothing is too inaccurate.
> 
> Anyway I'll stop talking, enjoy!

Sandy gave another look to the sealed envelope on her desk. In the return address, scribbled in his slanted handwriting, was Sodapop’s name, clear as day. Another tear hit the paper. Sandy pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth, trying not to make any noise as she cried.

“Soda, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, as she wrote, as quickly as she could, across the top of the envelope: 

_ return to sender. _

\--------

In the fall of 1963, Sandy’s friend, Evie, elbowed her in the side and whispered, rather conspicuously, “Hey Sandy, the pretty one’s into you.”

The “pretty one” Evie referred to was the well known Sodapop Curtis, the middle child of three boys, a Greaser like her, but a charming one. His looks and charisma could make any girl fall for him, even a Soc. He was popular at school, for a Greaser, and everyone knew who he was. Sandy didn’t know much about him other than that.

She tried not to blush when he looked her way. He was with his friend, Sean… or was his name Steve? She could never remember. They were both glancing at her, but Sodapop’s pink cheeks and Steve’s mischievous smile made it clear that Steve was only trying to get Soda to talk to her, and he himself wasn’t interested.

“You should go talk to him, before his friend accidentally pushes him on his face,” Evie said, smirking.

Sandy hesitated for a moment, but upon seeing that Steve was pulling Sodapop over to them by the arm, she decided to stand up and greet the two of them.

“What’s goin’ on, boys?”

Soda’s face went several shades darker, and Steve fixed his hair for him and walked away, leaning casually on the table next to Evie who exchanged a glance with him. Sandy wondered if they knew each other or something. Sodapop stood there gaping like a fish, giving Steve a wide eyed look. Sandy resisted the urge to laugh out loud.

“You’re Sodapop Curtis, ain't ya?” She asked, smoothing out her skirt in a way she hoped made her look confident and not nervous.

“Y-yeah I am,” he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. Sandy was searching for something to fill the silence when Steve spoke up.

“Listen, Sandy,” he said, strolling back over to them and throwing an arm over Soda’s shoulders. “He don’t usually get this shy, but what Sodapop is tryn’a say is that he thinks you’re real pretty, and he wants to get you an ice cream in the center sometime.”

Sodapop’s face got redder, if that was even possible, but he nodded and managed to mumble an affirmative “Uh huh.”

“Y’know Sodapop,” Sandy said, “I’d like that.”

Soda beamed.

\--------

By the time they were in freshman year, Sodapop and Sandy were going steady. Soda never really met Sandys parents, because they didn’t like Sandy and they certainly didn’t like her friends, but Sandy knew the Curtises quite well by the time Soda’s parents died in that terrible car crash. As she held a sobbing Sodapop in her arms after he’d told her the news, she thought back to all the times she’d sat in their kitchen, in their living room, in their backyard. She remembered helping Mrs. Curtis bake a chocolate cake while Sodapop made them laugh and Mr. Curtis helped Ponyboy with his homework. She remembered when Darrell had gotten hurt playing football, and they’d all sat around the couch when he got home from the hospital, hoping to make him feel better. She remembered Mrs. Curtis taking her into her arms while she cried after a particularly bad argument with her father. She remembered all these things, Mrs. Curtis’s warm smile, Mr. Curtis’s thoughtful but playful attitude, and she couldn’t help but want to cry herself, for to her it felt as though she were losing her own family as well. But Sodapop still clinging to her made her wipe her eyes and clear the thought of tears from her head. She would not cry, not here, not now, not in front of Sodapop, who she needed to be strong for. Later, alone in her room, she would try to keep her sobs at bay as she cried herself to sleep.

It was one night, after Soda had fallen dead asleep after a hard day at work, that Sandy sat on their back steps and watched the sunset. The Curtis house had a perfect view of it. Where Sandy lived, the skyline was blocked by houses and trees, but from Curtis’s backyard, it felt like you could see for miles. The door opened from behind her, and Ponyboy came out, carrying a garbage bag.

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” He asked, seeming startled.

“Just thinking, I guess,” she said. She’d always really liked Ponyboy. The three Curtis boys were all different, but Ponyboy struck her as unique in a way that differed from most people she’d met. He got good grades and he was fairly athletic, but he didn’t flaunt it.

He set the bag on the ground and sat beside her. “Sometimes when I take out the trash, I like to stand here and watch the sunset,” he admitted shyly, looking down at his hands.

Sandy smiled. “It’s a real nice view. I wish I could see it from my house, cause then I’d look at it more often.”

“I’d love to draw it,” Ponyboy said. “I’ve tried before, but… you just can’t draw a sunset with a graphite pencil. It’s nothing without color.”

Sandy hummed in agreement and went back to studying the sky. It really wouldn’t be anything without it’s color. A person couldn’t photograph the sunset and expect anything out of it. There was just no life without its soft pinks and golden hues.

“You know,” Sandy said, “I have a good friend who loves to draw. I could probably get some colored pencils for you, if you wanted.”

“Really?”

“Of course. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Ponyboy’s face lit up. “Gee, thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

“It’s no problem.”

When Ponyboy finished his drawing of the sunset, he gave it Sandy as a gift.

“I couldn’t have made it if you hadn’t helped me,” he said. Sandy would keep the picture for years to come.

\--------

Everything was going fine up until halfway through sophomore year. Sandy thought, back then, that she would marry Sodapop and maybe they would have some kind of life together. Kids or something. She was sure everything was perfect, and that everything would continue to be so. But when the new girl rolled into town, everything, everything changed.

“She’s from up in the Northeast,” Evie told her, although how she got that information, Sandy would never know. “Somewhere in New England. Her family ain’t rich or nothin’, though.” They’d had many kids from the Northeast move into Tulsa, but they’d always been Soc’s. Rich, elegant Soc’s with big ideas on how they were going to change the world, kids who meant well, but thought that the universe revolved around them. Sandy wasn’t sure if she wanted desperately to visit New England or if she never wanted to step foot in it for the rest of her life.

“What’s her name?” She asked.

“Morgan.”

And Sandy promptly forgot the conversation happened.

\--------

Sandy didn’t have any friends in her English class, and she hated English, so she isolated herself in the back row. There was no one else there except a red haired jock two seats away from her who was probably sitting there for the same reasons she was. It wasn’t so bad, though, because English was first period so she usually just dozed off five minutes in. Sandy had never worried too much about her grades. It’s why she hadn’t really minded when Sodapop dropped out. He was still just the same person.

The new girl walked in just after everyone had found their seats. She apologized for being late, making some excuse about being lost, and was directed to the empty seat right next to Sandy.

“Morgan, this is Sandy,” the teacher said, but he didn’t smile when he looked at her. She probably had one of the lowest grades in the class, she wasn’t surprised he didn’t like her. “She can get you caught up if you don’t understand something.”

Sandy highly doubted that, but she smiled politely and greeted the new girl with a nice “Hello.”

Morgan was pretty, like  _ really  _ pretty, with curly brown hair and a sweet face, but she had a strange scar, a slash across her cheekbone, as if someone had taken a knife and sliced her with it. Morgan’s eyes, which were the deepest green eyes Sandy had ever seen, met her gaze, and she realized she’d been staring. She gave a little awkward smile and went back to her work, trying not to think about the weird scar or her eyes that looked like a gemstone or her hair, which looked very, very soft. Sandy blushed, looking away from Morgan and pretending to be getting something from her backpack. What was wrong with her? Sure, Morgan was pretty. Sandy knew all kinds of pretty girls. But she never got like this. All flustered, like she should around a boy.

“So, is this school any good?” Morgan asked. Sandy, caught off guard, blushed harder, even though the question was innocent enough.

“Um, I guess,” she said, composing herself. “It’s a little rough, what with the Greasers and the Socs, but it’s not too bad.”

Morgan nodded. “I heard some real wild shit goes on between the social classes here.” She looked Sandy up and down. “Where do you fit?” Although Sandy was pretty sure she already knew. She looked like a Greaser girl, with her hair that she couldn’t afford to put any product in, her cheap eye makeup darker than most girls wore theirs, her clothes edgy and worn and a little too small.

“I’m a Greaser,” she said. “What about you? Or do you not know?”

Morgan shrugged. “My family wasn’t too well off up in New England, but it’s wicked expensive up there. My dad wanted to move here ‘cause he said our money would be worth more, and he could find a better job.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “I’m definitely not a Soc, but I don’t think I’d make a very good Greaser, either.”

Morgan wasn’t wearing typical Greaser attire- her clothes reminded Sandy of the trend that had just passed. Morgan probably got them from the second hand store, she realized. Most Greasers got their clothes from there, too, except they got things that were way past their prime, things that had never been in style. They would cut them up, sew on buttons, and tailor them however they liked. Then, they covered up their grungy clothing with a leather jacket.

“I bet you’d make a fine Greaser,” Sandy said. “You’ve already got the swearing down. You just need a little touch-up.”

\--------

Over the coming weeks, Morgan and Sandy found themselves spending more and more time together.

“Here’s an old biker jacket of mine. You can keep it.”

Or,

“Hey wanna come to the pep rally with me?”

“Looks like someone’s got a bit of a girl-crush,” Evie teased one day when Sandy told them she was meeting Morgan after school again.

Sandy laughed along. “Shut up.”

“Yeah,” Sodapop said playfully, wrapping an arm securely around her waist. “She’s faithful, ain’t ya, Sandy?”

Sandy giggled and deflected his first few attempts at kissing her, until finally she let him win.

“I really should go, though,” she said, bopping him on the nose and twirling away from his grasp.

Soda laughed. “You could let us meet her sometime, ya know.”

She tried not to think about how that sounded like he was asking to meet her fiance. “Don’t worry, I will.” She blew him a kiss before scampering off. The truth was, she didn’t want to introduce Morgan to her friends. Morgan was special to her in a way she couldn’t describe, another side of her life that was different than what she was used to. She felt that if she let the two sides of her mix, disastrous things would happen.

\--------

“This is my favorite song!” Morgan leapt off the bed as “I Can’t Help Myself” came on the radio. Sandy got up too, swaying to rhythm as the upbeat piano was accompanied by a tamborine. It wasn’t a very greasy song, but Morgan liked it, and when Morgan smiled, Sandy found herself smiling, too. Morgan sang along.

“ _ Sugar pie, honey bunch _ .”

She twirled around the room, and Sandy followed her, until they were hip to hip, dancing along to the music. Sandy didn’t really know how it happened, but suddenly they were hand in hand, dancing like a young couple in love, singing at the top of their lungs. Morgan’s golden laugh danced with them, her fluid steps making everything feel easy and natural. For a few minutes, Sandy’s stomach stopped doing flips, and everything was exactly how she felt it should be.

When the song was over, they both flopped down on the bed, exhausted, laughing at something, but neither was sure exactly what. Sandy laid there, drunk on the feeling of being young, and when Morgan’s lips pressed against hers, she at first didn’t even realize what was happening. She kissed back, still smiling until the girl above pulled back to catch her breath, and Sandy opened her eyes. Morgan’s face, her soft brown hair, her gorgeous eyes full of life. She thought about how much she wanted to trace her finger along that strange scar, how desperately she wanted to sink her teeth into Morgan’s neck and hear her moan. And that’s when Sandy realized what she’d done. This was wrong. Morgan’s smile fell, too, her brain seemingly having caught up with the situation.

Sandy pushed herself away from the other girl, her cheeks flushing a red and her mind racing a hundred miles a minute.

Morgan was red faced and wide eyed. “Sorry, sorry I didn’t-”

“I-I think I’d better go.” Sandy cut her off, gathering her things and stuffing them in her book bag.

“Sandy, wait I-” but Sandy was already leaving, and Morgan never finished.

Sandy sat in a different seat the next day in English. Morgan’s face fell when she saw her (and god did Sandy try to pretend it didn’t hurt), but she sat in her usual seat and said nothing, and Sandy tried her damn hardest to escape to somewhere else in her mind, like she would have before Morgan. But every time she thought of the things she liked, the forests that were Morgan’s eyes crept into her mind.

After school, she met up with Sodapop and Evie as usual. Sandy knew what would distract her.

“Let’s hang out,” she said, grabbing Sodapop by the arm. Evie gave her a wink and slipped away.

“Woah, what’s goin’ on?” Soda asked, teasing but curious. Sandy wasn’t usually so up front.

“I miss you,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough.”

Soda grinned and tried to kiss her, but this time she didn’t let him win.

Later, at the Curtis’s house, Sandy stroked Soda’s hair, convincing herself that she was finally free from whatever was happening before.

“Hey Sandy, you okay?”

She looked up at Soda’s question, surprised. “Yeah, I’m fine.” His expression remained concerned, so she pulled herself a little bit closer to him. “I’m  _ great _ .” She kissed him, feeling his warmth, his hair, his lips. She reached her hands under his shirt, running them along his chest, trying to convince herself that this was what she wanted, this was what she needed to feel satisfied.

“Woah,” Soda pulled away. “Excited, are we?”

“Sorry,” she said. Sandy had to be careful to respect his boundaries. She’d been going too fast. She needed to slow down. “I forgot.”

Soda blushed and looked away. “It’s okay.”

Sandy kissed him again, withdrawing her hands from his shirt. He stopped for breath, and she sat up and turned around.

“Sandy? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “It’s getting late. Your brothers will be home soon. See you tomorrow, Sodapop.” And with that, she left. This time, there was no lying to herself. 

When she kissed Sodapop, she imagined she was kissing Morgan.

\--------

She walked away from the Curtis's house, past the drive in, past the DX, past her home. She didn’t know where she was walking until she reached the humble little dusty yellow house on Oakland road, it’s garden still grown over and the curtains undrawn as usual. She wasn’t sure why she’d expected it to change in the few days she’d been away. She didn’t know when she’d started crying. She honestly didn’t know why she was. She knew she shouldn’t be at Morgan’s house, that she should turn around and go home, but without her permission, her legs moved up the little walkway and her hand knocked on the door. Morgan answered. She seemed surprised, as Sandy had expected her to be, and then nervous.

“Sandy, what-” But Sandy didn’t have time for questions. She grabbed Morgan by the wrist and led her to her room, forcing her against the wall. Morgan yelped in surprise, her face in utter confusion, but when Sandy kissed her, she stopped trying to talk and instead melted into her lips, moaning softly. Sandy wanted her, she wanted her so bad, her sweet strawberry lips and soft, soft dark hair. Morgan broke away after a moment, pushing Sandy away when she tried to go back for more.

“Sandy,” she said. “Stop.”

Sandy did stop. Did Morgan not want this? Had she read the situation wrong?

“I- this isn’t right. We shouldn’t do this.”

Sandy’s stomach felt queasy suddenly. She’d been so sure… “But don’t you want to?”

Morgan didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry,” Sandy murmured. “I really thought you did.”

She turned to leave, but Morgan grabbed her wrist. “I do. I want you more than anything. But what will people say? We can’t be together, Sandy, it’s not allowed. Besides, you have Sodapop. He’ll be better for you.”

“I don’t want Sodapop,” Sandy replied. She felt guilty for saying it, but it was true. She loved Sodapop, but not, she was now realizing, how she was supposed to. Not like she loved Morgan.

Morgan turned away from her. “Well then find a different boy. We can’t see each other anymore, Sandy. If we do…”

“If we do?”

Morgan’s voice was so soft, Sandy hardly heard her. “If we do, I might fall in love with you.”

Sandy examined her fingernails very closely, at a loss for what to say. What could she say? That it didn’t matter? It did. They’d find a way? That was impossible. And anyways, Sandy was fairly certain that she already did love Morgan. But she couldn’t tell her that. It wasn’t the time.

“We can’t stay away from each other, Morgan. We go to the same school. No matter what we do, we’ll see each other every day.”

For a minute there was silence. Then, as if she’d forgotten the previous conversation had even happened, Morgan guided Sandy to her bed, and kissed her, long and deep and passionate. They both lay down on Morgan’s bed, their lips still intertwined, their hands scrabbling at each other’s hair, clothes, skin. Sandy could feel herself growing hot with need, and she grabbed at Morgan’s tight fitting jeans.

That’s when they heard the front door slam open.

The girls righted themselves, straightening out their clothes and fixing their hair. Sandy could feel how hot the room was, how red her cheeks were, but she had to hope Morgan’s parents wouldn’t notice.

Morgan hurridley turned on the radio, as if it would distract whoever was at the door from the girl’s flushed cheeks and messy hair. “I didn’t know my parents would be home so soon,” she said, attempting to straighten out her skirt.

“It’s okay,” Sandy replied, simply relieved they hadn’t been caught.

Sandy and Morgan kept up their act for the next few weeks. To her friends, Sandy seemed the same as before, her “girlcrush,” as Evie called it, still stronger than ever. But to Sandy and Morgan, there was something deeper, something that Sandy just couldn’t quite grasp, something she’d never allowed herself to feel before. Because the more she looked back on it, the more she realized how all this time, she’d been hiding from herself. 

She’d always looked at girls, even when she was too young to really understand that stuff, she had just never realized what it meant. Now, she knew. She was different. She remembered, suddenly and quite vividly, a time at one of Buck’s parties, where she’d gotten so drunk she could hardly stand. Soda hadn’t been there, he’d been at a drag race with Steve, and there’d been this girl- Sandy’s mind drew a blank after that, but there were flashes, memories of things she’d tried to forget, or never remembered in the first place. It was the only time she’d ever seen unfaithful to Soda, and of course she never told him. She remembered going to a football game and eyeing that cheerleader Cherry Valance, the prettiest Soc in school, probably the prettiest girl out of everyone. At the time, she’d tried to justify it to herself.  _ She’s so pretty _ , she’d thought.  _ Her lips are so full… _ she’d told herself that she was just jealous of how truly good looking the other girl was, that it wasn’t strange to know a pretty girl when she saw one. And, of course, that was still not weird, but it was different for Sandy. Cherry would know Morgan was pretty because she constantly took in images of women who society had deemed attractive from reading magazines and newspapers and watching films. But Sandy knew Morgan was pretty because she felt it, because she was attracted to her like she’d never let herself be attracted to someone before. Because she convinced herself she was happy the way she was, that Sodapop was all she ever really needed.

And he was so wonderful. He was kind and considerate and funny, and he made her laugh even on her worst days. But she knew now that she’s never liked him in the way he liked her. He couldn’t ever be anything more than a friend to her, and for that she was ashamed. She felt guilty, as though she’d been leading him on this whole time, and now she was cheating on him with a  _ girl _ . But she couldn’t tell him. She’d destroy everything. And as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t keep herself away from Morgan.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before everything changed. Again.

“Morgan,” Sandy rasped, her voice rough with the lust she was trying not the feel. “Morgan, babe, we can’t do this here.”

Morgan murmed something into the crook of her neck that she couldn’t quite make out, and continued to kiss her.

They were in an alley out back behind Sandy’s house, which they’d been going to because, as usual, her parents weren’t home. They went there often, since there they had plenty of privacy and nothing to get in their way.

“C’mon,” Sandy tried again. “We could at least just get in the house-”

“Sandy?”

The girls broke apart faster than either thought was humanly possible. Sandy’s mother stood at the entrance to the alley, the cigarette she’d been lighting up just a minute ago was on the ground, letting up a thin trail of smoke.

“M-mom,” she said, throwing a quick glance towards Morgan. “I-I can explain-”

“Sure,” her mother replied. “I bet you can explain to me real good why you were feeling up a girl in the alley behind our house. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I-It wasn’t like that,” she lied. “We were just… um…” Sandy tried for a few seconds more, but her stupid brain couldn’t come up with a good excuse.

Her mother had run out of patience. “Get inside.” She turned, making her way towards their front steps, but after a moment she looked back at Morgan. “And you,” she said. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t ever want to see your face again, you little dyke. Understood?”

Morgan nodded furiously, her eyes blown wide. Sandy hesitated, giving her one last terrified look before warrily following her mother inside.

“Go to your room,” her mother said, lighting up another cigarette. Sandy stood still in the doorway, afraid to move. “Are you deaf, freak? Go to your ROOM.”

Sandy, frightened by her mother’s outburst, scurried to her room and shut the door. She sank onto her bed, willing herself not to cry. Her mother knew. Her mother knew. She tried to convince herself it was just a bad dream. She’d had nightmares like it before. She pinched herself, but the only thing she accomplished was bruising her arm. Her mother knew, and soon would her father. Then, there was no telling what would happen.

Sandy tried to ignore the low whispers coming from the kitchen that suddenly turned into a lot of yelling. Something smashed, probably a plate or a bowl, and then the familiar sound of a beer bottle being thrown against the wall rang in her ears. He was coming, and there was no telling what he’d do to her. Her father wasn’t usually violent with her- he wasn’t going to beat up on a girl, even if it was his own daughter- but maybe this was too much. Maybe she’d crossed the line.

The door to her room opened slowly, not the frightening slam she’d been expecting. Her father stood in the doorway, looking surprisingly calm. Sandy wasn’t sure if that was good, or if it was very, very bad.

“Sandy,” her father said, his voice low. “Just what the hell did you think you were doing?”

Sandy had had plenty of time to think over a good excuse, sitting alone in her bedroom. Unfortunately, she had chosen instead to throw her own little pity party, and now she had nothing to defend herself with. So she stayed quiet and hoped for the best.

“Answer me, girl!”

“I… I don’t know,” she murmured. “There was just this girl and…”

“And you’ve been seeing this girl often?” Her father asked.

Sandy tried to hide her surprise. How would he know? “No.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sandy.”

“I swear, I haven’t-”

“Sandy!”

She sighed in defeat. “Yeah, I have.”

Her father reacted differently than she thought he would. She’d expected yelling, and hitting. She had not expected his anger to be contained, she did not expect him to stoke it in his chest until it was rage, which he then used to devise a simple ploy, one that would keep Sandy away from Morgan for a long time: 

Sandy had told her father she wanted to marry Sodapop. Her father hadn’t agreed with this, because they were only kids. Suspecting Sandy might run off with a 17 year-old, Sandy was sent away to live with her grandparents in Florida.

“Will I be able to say goodbye to Soda?” She asked him, pleading.

“Oh so now you’re his faithful little girlfriend. Get your ass in the car, you whore, and don’t even think about saying another word.”

Sandy wrote the letter of lies to Sodapop in the short car ride to his house.  _ I’m sorry I had to leave on such short notice. I’ll miss you so much, Sodapop. I love you. _ This, at least, was mostly true.

It was only as she was slipping the envelope into his mailbox, that she remembered. Ponyboy was missing. Ponyboy and Johnny, one of Soda’s buddies, had killed Bob the Soc, and now they were on the run. Soda had told her this, practically in tears over the phone, confiding in her when he felt he had no one else. And in her whirlwind romance with Morgan and getting caught by her mother and everything that had happened, she’d completely forgotten. Soda took bad news hard. If she left him now, and his brother never came back, or worse, ended up dead- what kind of girlfriend was she to him?

A pretty terrible one, what with cheating on him and everything, but now this? She hated herself so much in that moment she could barely contain herself from ripping the letter to pieces and running in the opposite direction of her car. She should have ended their relationship long ago, but it had been a good coverup for her and Morgan. She’d somehow convinced herself that she was still Soda’s girlfriend because she really did like him and his family, and she didn’t want to lose all of that. And while this was true, if she really cared about Sodapop as she said she did she would have ended things the minute she made heart eyes at Morgan.

“What the hell are you waiting for, girl? Close the mailbox and get in the damn car!”

Sandy, surprised out of her trance, took one long look at the Curtises’ house before doing what she was told. It was as she sat in the car and held back her tears that she promised herself she would do better in Florida. No matter what happened, she wouldn’t make the mistakes she had here. She didn’t want to leave, but she’d fucked up, and now she had a chance for a fresh start.

And so with this thought she fell asleep as the sun rose in the horizon, prepared for the long drive.

\--------

Sandy never saw Sodapop again. She had not ignored his letter out of spite, but only because she was so ashamed of what she’d done. And, admittedly, it was not the best way to have handled things. She knew this, and even years later she regretted those few weeks when everything had changed. She also knew, though, that it was too late for her and Soda. She couldn’t repair what she’d broken. Bringing those old demons back into Soda’s life would only hurt him, and she’d never wanted to do that, even when she had hurt him worse than anyone else.

Sandy never found another man, or woman for that matter. She did date a few boys, just to please her father, but the relationships never lasted long. And although she looked from afar, she never again allowed herself to have with a woman what she’d had with Morgan. She knew it would only end just as bad as last time. So that was why, on that morning of 1975, ten years after everything, ten years of leaving it behind and moving on, she ran from that little cafe in New Jersey.

“Sandy!”

Footsteps ran behind her, and Sandy’s tall heels made sprinting out of the question. A hand grasped her wrist and her mind flashed back to a time long ago, just her and a green eyed girl alone in a bedroom, scared and confused, but young. Now, Sandy was not so young. She didn’t have time to figure out her feelings. She was a working woman, she had a job and an apartment, and all this was hard to keep in a man’s world. Another responsibility was the last thing she needed.

She wrenched her hand out of the woman’s grasp.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” she said, her voice angry and accusatory. Morgan looked as if she’d been struck.

“Sandy, do you- do you not recognize me?”

Sandy couldn’t look her in the eyes. “I have no idea who you are.”

Realization registered in Morgan’s eyes. Her face darkened. “I see,” she said, stepping back. Sandy tried to ignore how much it hurt. “I’d better get back to my job, then.”

Sandy didn’t get any work done that day, deep green eyes haunting her every thought. How could Morgan be in New Jersey at the same time as her, in the same location, working at the same coffee shop she went to all the time?

Even after all these years, she still loved her the same. She’d never admit to it, not if you pointed a gun at her head, but this, deep down, she knew.

_ Maybe it’s fate _ , some suppressed part of her whispered, but she pushed it down. Sandy didn’t believe in fate. And even if she did, this wasn’t it. This was a coincidence, that’s all. One big coincidence.

She knew what she was, now. She was a homosexual, a lesbian, she supposed. She didn’t really like to think of herself like that, though. Years of hearing those words said in a negative light left her with a stigma towards them that she couldn’t shake. Gay people, queers, whatever people were calling them nowadays, they were more visible than they had been in ‘65. Sandy knew about the Stonewall riots. She’d once talked to a gay man about her sexuality, and he told her that him and some other members of the gay community hoped to get every gay person to be vocal about their sexuality. That way, he’d said, they could eliminate some of the fear society had about people like him and Sandy.

Although Sandy had promised him she’d try her best to open up about who she was, the reality of it was that she was a woman, and trying to be successful was difficult enough. No one would take her even a tiny bit seriously if they knew of her sexual preference.

But now, she recalled her conversation with that man. She wished she could remember his name. If she was open about who she was, maybe kids like her wouldn’t have to grow up the way she did. Maybe they wouldn’t have to uproot their lives because of a girl when, really, it didn’t matter who they liked. Who said love had to be between a man and a woman? Some old book? Sandy had stopped living her life by the Bible a long time ago. And besides, why couldn’t people love Jesus and someone of the same gender? Did it really matter all that much?

She supposed to some people it did. And maybe she wasn’t ready to be out to the world. That would come in time, she knew. But the first step was being open to herself. And then, maybe, she could be open to someone else. A certain green eyed girl.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I know I made Sandy kind of a shitty person in some parts but I think she meant well, she just messed up.
> 
> ALSO I just want everyone to know that I love Sodapop he is my favorite character and I hate to hurt him like this, I'm crying for my poor baby. I also wish he was in this more. I wrote both of the scenes he was in super rushed so it's terrible, but don't get me wrong I do love him so much.


End file.
